


Squirt

by Frisk15



Series: Family Hodgepodge [4]
Category: Hawaii Five-0 (2010)
Genre: Established Relationship, Family Fluff, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Motion Sickness
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:51:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4583172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Frisk15/pseuds/Frisk15
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>squirt /skwərt/ - 1. a thin stream or small quantity of liquid ejected from something; 2. slang: a young or small person</p>
            </blockquote>





	Squirt

**Author's Note:**

> This fills the 'motion sickness' square of my H/C Bingo card.

"Did you remember to give Kieran his medicine?" The question is matter-of-fact, Danny expecting nothing more than a positive response. He continues to take in the view rushing by outside the passenger window, when he suddenly realizes the expected response remains sorely lacking.

Frowning, he turns. "Steven?"

Said individual's face, scrunched up and carrying an outright _guilty_ look, in combination with the nervous biting of the lower lip tell him all he needs - but really doesn't want - to know.

"Oh shit! Please, _please_ don't tell me that you forgot."

When his remark is met with more silence and nervous lip biting, Danny groans, then turns and looks back at their son, peacefully asleep in his car seat. Facing Steve again, his face is set in the _You-better-explain-things-right-the-fuck-NOW!_ look Steve has come to dread. There's going to be a full-blown Danny Williams tantrum in 3-2-1 ...

"So what - and I'm very curious to the answer you're going to give me - have you been doing this morning while you were supposedly out _buying Dramamine_?!"

There's a dangerously sharp edge to Danny's voice, and Steve shoots him a furtive glance in order to estimate the amount of trouble he's in. _Crap!_ On a scale of one to ten, this is easily a fourteen. And he knows that anything and everything Danny is about to lay on him - and he has no doubt that the laying-on will be harsh and painful - is his own _stupid_ fault. Well, mostly, anyways. Tightly gripping the steering wheel as if to brace himself for what's coming, Steve stares out at the road, waiting for ... and there it is.

"How in _God's_ name could you forget something that important, Steven?! Huh? Do I need to remind you of our holiday in Jersey, how it took nearly _a week_ to not only clean the rental car but get that _horrible_ smell out of the upholstery as well? Or, hey, remember our little visit to Mamo's relatives, up at North Shore? I certainly do, because the stains left by beets _do not wash out of a white shirt_! A perfectly fine white shirt by the way, an _expensive_ white shirt!"

Danny momentarily stops to supply his lungs with much needed oxygen, and Steve sneaks another glance, taking in the red face, the deep frown hovering above the blue eyes, the pursed lips. He loves his husband, absolutely _adores_ him, and will stand up in court and swear to a herd of judges that Danny Williams is the kindest, most gentle and loving soul he has ever met.

Unfortunately, just like weavers in the Middle East always work in one imperfect thread in their otherwise perfect tapestries to testify to the fact that they're only human, that they themselves are _not_ perfect, whomever is in charge of creating human souls has left a singular imperfection in that of Danny Williams: his rage. And Steve McGarrett usually finds himself the subject of said rage, because, well, because of situations like this.

"Which is why," says Danny, having inhaled enough air to continue his rant, "I am _beyond_ curious as to what reason you will give me for not buying the Dramamine, for forgetting the fact that without said medicine, our day trip to Kahuku Beach - which, in case you forgot, is intended to celebrate our _anniversary_ \- will most likely be either seriously interrupted or completely spoiled by _a puking kid_ ! So please tell me, Steven, before I have an aneurysm because the suspense is _killing_ me!"

Danny notices Steve's hands grip the steering wheel even tighter, and he can barely hear the whispered answer coming from between the clenched jaws.

"Robbery."

"Excuse me, what was that? I think I must have misunderstood, because I swear you mentioned something regarding a _crime_ on a day which - and let me remind you that you were in total agreement on this - we decided would not have _anything_ to do with Oahu's less desirable aspect of society but would be all about _family_." Danny inhales. "So ... what was it you said?"

Steve quickly turns his head to look at his husband, then glues his eyes to the road again, swallowing before he repeats his answer.

"A robbery."

"Sweet _Jesus_ , I think I'm losing my mind! You're seriously telling me that on the one day, the _one_ day in the year that I ask you to refrain from risking bodily harm - either to yourself or others - by chasing suspects, or stay away from anything involving triggers or pulling pins, you actually _got_ _involved in a robbery_?! For crying out loud, Steven! Why? Were they about to steal the last supplies of Dramamine? Because that _better_ be the fucking reason!"

Steve winces at the sarcasm, the acerbic tone of Danny's voice and again wishes he had followed his gut instinct and gone to the pharmacy closest to their home. However, he had wanted to buy Danny some of the sunscreen he knows he likes to use, and gone to the store which he knew carried that particular brand.

He had, in fact, remembered the Dramamine, had actually had it in his _hand_ when he noticed the suspicious behavior of the two men lurking by the counter. They had nervously glanced at both each other and the door all the time, and when he had made out the bulge at the back of the shirt of one of the men, he had instinctively known something was about to go down.

When it did, when one of the men pulled out a gun and pointed it at the woman standing behind the counter, screaming at her to hand over the cash, he had covertly flashed his badge and taken out his own gun, silently motioning for the other customers to look for cover, then cautiously moved towards the front of the store.

It had been quick and easy, both men nearly wetting themselves in fear the moment he had barked out "Five-0, drop your weapons!", dropping first their weapons and then themselves on the floor. The quick thinking owner had called 911 while Steve was securing the would-be robbers, and the whole thing had been over in less than fifteen minutes, Steve relinquishing the case to an HPD detective.

And when he got home, he had been focusing so intently on not giving anything away about his little experience at the drug store, determined not to cause Danny any unnecessary stress on this specific day - because, hey, nothing _bad_ had happened, honestly; he wasn't injured, shit, he hadn't even torn his pants or shirt - that he had clean forgotten about the very reason he had been at the store. And then he was packing the car and simultaneously keeping an eye on Kieran while Danny was inside the house gathering their last stuff, and the Dramamine was pushed even further to the back of his mind.

He's just about to clarify the matter to Danny, gathering up his nerves and explain to him that there really have been extenuating circumstances and it's not _all_ his fault, when a soft moan comes from the backseat. They're both turning their head in concern when Kieran utters a pathetic "Daddeeee ...", and a split second later Steve is hit mid-face by a warm jet of semi-digested matter.

Jerking his head back, Steve barely notices his husband's shocked face as he starts coughing because, yeah, this must be his lucky _day_ , some of his son's stomach contents have managed to end up near - oh and shit, gross, yuck, _Jesus_! - _in_ his own mouth. Spitting, _gagging_ he simultaneously tries to keep the car from veering off the road and ignoring the smell, the _stench_ assaulting his senses.

Blinking, he's trying to see through the warm, icky sludge- and what the _fuck_ has Danny been feeding the kid this morning?! - dripping down his face in order to safely steer the car to the side of the road, so they can do some damage control. Something white appears at the edge of his peripheral vision and, realizing it's a baby-wipe Danny's holding out to him, Steve grabs it and starts scrubbing his face.

When he finally manages to maneuver the car through traffic onto the shoulder of the road, Steve brings the car to a nearly screeching halt - earning him a disdainful look from his husband, but hey, this is an _emergency_ _-_ and then leans back against his seat, staring straight ahead. He's vaguely aware of Danny leaning into the back of the car, continuously muttering under his breath as he starts to clean the mess on and around Kieran, but the whole incident has shocked him into being unable, into _refusing_ to move.

There's stuff covering his shirt, covering his pants, his shoulders, it's in his _hair_ and - so help him God, but this is almost making _him_ ralph - he can even feel some of the ooze slowly trickling down the back of his neck, _into_ his shirt.

When Danny rights himself in his seat again, hand on the door handle to get out and gain access to their now softly whimpering son in the back, Steve slowly turns his head and stares at him.

"Did ... did he actually _aim_ at me? Because I swear he did it on purpose! He was looking straight at me when ... when he ..." Steve can feel the bile rising in his throat, and he desperately swallows it down in order not to follow in his son's footsteps, not to add to the already reeking mess inside the car.

Danny remains silent for a moment, throwing Steve a cold, unforgiving look, taking in the horrified look on his still partially covered face. Then he nods.

"Absolutely. And kudos to the child for being such a smart and intelligent combination of his parents."

The horrified look on Steve's face is replaced by something akin to a mixture of confusion and absolute _disbelief_ at his husband's totally uncaring response.

"Kudos? You think the fact that our child barfed on me, ejected his stomach contents in my direction on _purpose_ deserves _kudos_?! And what the hell do you mean by 'intelligent combination', huh?" Steve is now furiously scrubbing the remainder of the vomit off his face, grabbing more baby-wipes out of Danny's hand as he moves to clean his hair and - oh please, _please_ don't upchuck - the back of his neck.

Danny shakes his head, pursing his lips as he watches the cleaning operation. When Steve glances up again, Danny notices his face looks a little better than before except ... "You missed a spot," he calmly states and points to Steve's right ear. "There's a bit of corn sticking ... yeah, right there." Unfazed, he watches as Steve blanches and wipes off the offending bit of ex-food.

"It's quite simple, really," Danny starts explaining in a soft voice. "He has your superhuman ability to zero in on a target and hit it dead center, as well as my not-so-insignifiant detecting skills." He sighs as Steve raises an eyebrow, still not comprehending. "Meaning, he figured out who is responsible for making him sick and initiated pay-back with, dare I say, _impeccable_ accuracy."

Then, much to Steve's absolute and complete disgust, Danny has the audacity to actually _grin_.

"You know, Steven, from my point of view, this disaster could have been much, _much_ worse." The grin becomes even bigger. "I mean, yeah, I guess I have to clean him, and the smell is pretty off-putting but, imagine that, I still have a _clean shirt_!" And with that he exits the car, only for his head to re-appear above the passenger seat from the back, giving Steve a fat wink.

Steve turns his eyes towards the road again, stunned at Danny's utter lack of compassion. Then he sighs, absentmindedly wiping at his shirt.

The robbery at the drug store had been far easier to deal with.

* * *

It takes a good twenty minutes to clean away most, if not all of the mess in the car. When Steve finally gets out of the car and moves towards his husband and son standing in the grass next to the road's shoulder, Danny silently hands him a bottle of water and the remainder of the baby-wipes to further clean himself.

"There's a drug store on Hospital Road, just before Kahuku Beach if I'm not mistaken. They probably have Dramamine there." Steve throws Danny an inquisitive look. "Unless, of course, you want to go back home ..."

Danny frowns, looks at the small boy in his arms, then back at Steve again. "I think I would like to stick to our original plans. We're over half way there and," he suddenly grins at his husband again, "I'm pretty sure there's nothing left in this little man's stomach, so we're safe. _You're_ safe."

Scowling, Steve throws Danny an irritated look, then looks at his son and feels a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. "Yeah, you're right, let's go on. Wouldn't want to make Kieran miss the opportunity of building his first sand castle." He ruffles a hand through his son's curls, then plants a kiss on top of the child's head. "Come on, kiddo, lets get you back in the car."

Steve plants the child back in his car seat and secures the safety belts. When he turns around, Danny is right there, crowding his personal space. Steve looks into his husband's blue eyes, still filled with mirth at the whole situation. Leaning into him, Steve utters a soft growl.

"You may think this is funny now, but wait until we get back home tonight. I'll have my revenge then."

Danny sniffs at him, then leans back a little to stare up into his eyes. "Not until you've had a long, _long_ shower my friend. Because, honestly? You reek!" With that he winks again and goes to sit down into the passenger seat, careful to avoid Steve's wet and - yeah, still disgusting - smelly shirt.

While Steve walks around the car to take his place behind the wheel again, Danny turns around and looks at Kieran.

"Hey, Squirt," he says, and suddenly knows without a doubt where _that_ term for mini-adults originated. "Feeling any better?" He smiles as the small dark head of his son, fortunately no longer looking green around the gills, moves up and down enthusiastically.

"B'tah."


End file.
